Total Recall
by glassfacet
Summary: Post-Eclipse Azkedellia, through the eyes of Jeb Cain, and all the insanity of a formerly possessed princess attempting to possess herself. Az/Jeb, Cain/Glitch


Chapter One - She Can Get It

_Yeah, she don't stop_

_She's working it all about_

_She's moving around the clock_

_And she can get it, sh-sh-she can get it._

The post-Eclipse Royal Family was a motivated, active one. The utter madness of the Witch's reign required a major overhaul of the state. Fortunately for Queen Lavender, there was no shortage of people willing to pitch in. Unfortunately for Wyatt and Jeb Cain, they were placed inside of the palace and believed that they would be bored. Until the specifics of their assignments were revealed.

Wyatt Cain was in charge of Princess Dorothygale's security. Jeb Cain was in charge of Princess Azkedellia's.

Jeb's first meeting with Azkedellia was very stiff and formal. This could have been annuals of bitterness and loathing for her on Jeb's part. It could also have been Azkedellia's exhaustion hiding behind the facade of Crown Princess. Whatever the reason, it was very clear that both just wanted to be as far away from the other as possible. The next few went better, as for the second one the princess was covered in mud; for the third one Jeb had knocked himself out with a loose floorboard and woke up to find Azkedellia pressing Light filled hands against his forehead and chest.

The first thing that Jeb learned about Azkedellia was that she was an independent soul. Yes, she had personal maids. No, they were not allowed to touch her wardrobe or her writing desk. She could handle keeping those areas clean herself. The second thing Jeb learned about Azkedellia was that when there was something she wanted done and she had a plan to do it, it would happen.

"I think this place needs a new look," said Azkedellia, looking over her dusty childhood rooms in the Central City Palace two weeks after her mother resumed the throne. "Something less stuffy, maybe."

"I'm sure Mom has it on her to-do list," said DG carelessly. "Besides, you promised to help me with my magic."

"Of course," said Azkedellia. "Why don't you try opening the curtains with your magic?"

"Oh sure," said DG sarcastically. "How do I do that?"

"Want them to open," instructed Azkedellia. "And then focus on that desire with all your stubbornness until it happens." As DG glared at the curtains, Azkedellia had the bed separate into its separate parts and shake itself off, much like a wet dog. By the time the dust had settled and the bed had put itself back together, DG had gotten the curtains open.

"I did it," said DG gleefully. "What else can I try?"

"Why don't you roll up that rug and put it on the cart?" suggested Azkedellia as she opened the wardrobe and began going through the now much too small gowns inside. DG, tongue between her teeth, focused on rolling up the rug and then levitating it. Her sister placed the gowns into three piles, one of which was also in the cart that Azkedellia had brought, Jeb suspected, for this express purpose. He sighed faintly.

"Is there anything we can do to help, your Highness?" Jeb asked on behalf of himself and his father. Azkedellia never paused in her sorting.

"I remember spilling something all over the settee the last time I lived here," said Azkedellia. "Would you mind taking it down to the workshops for repair and reupholstering?"

Jeb and one of the guardsmen standing outside had carried it out, as per her request. When they got back, they found Wyatt bemusedly carrying a nest of rats in a pine box out of Azkedellia's rooms. DG was learning how to magically restore paintings under Azkedellia's watchful eye, while the elder princess went through a chest of drawers. The maids were on ladders, dusting off the chandeliers and wall sconces. Jeb and the guard left with Azkedellia's old writing dest, also in desperate need of repair, according to the princess.

After lunch, DG was called to her more formal lessons, and Azkedellia's full plan was put into motion. Everything was removed from her suite, sometimes by the princess herself, for repair or redistribution. Jeb and his chosen guards were sweating by the time dinner was called for. Azkedellia was glowing.

"I am sorry for pushing everyone so hard," she said as they gathered in the sitting room of the suite, "but I needed this done, and quickly. And I apologize in advance because after dinner, there will be more work. I'll do most of it, I promise, but I will continue to need help. Meimei, leave the windows open please. Good work, and thank you!"

"So, how did the afternoon go?" asked Wyatt over their own dinner.

Jeb sighed. "Azkedellia is completely insane. There is literally nothing in her entire suite. Not even a speck of dust. Nothing."

Wyatt frowned. "The Queen won't be happy."

"The Queen may not have a choice," replied Jeb dejectedly. "I have no idea what she's going to tell her mother."

Jeb had taken an extra hour break with his dinner, trusting that the new shift of men would be enough to help and protect Azkedellia. When he got back to her suite, Jeb was surprised by the progress Azkedellia had made in his absence. Her sitting room's walls were a soft purple-grey with cream accents. The wood of the furniture was a warm mid tone brown. The painting over the fireplace was the one that DG had repaired that morning, one of the Royal Family in one of it's more casual moments. Azkedellia sat in one of the chairs, arranging stalks of lavender and fuji mums in a tall crystal vase.

"I like what you've done with the space," said Jeb, taking it all in.

"Thank you," said Azkedellia with a pleased little smile. "I know you thought that you'd be staying in the barracks - and you still can if you want - but traditionally, heads of security have their own rooms in the suite of the person they're protecting. Come have a look."

Curious, Jeb followed the princess through the double doors between the sitting room the hall that led to her bedroom. Azkedellia opened a well camouflaged door on the right of the hallway and gestured Jeb in. The room was forest green, for the most part, with unstained varnished wood furniture. There were throw pillows on the chairs and a desk already supplied with paper and ink. It felt warm and homey.

"Do you like it?" asked Azkedellia tentatively.

"It's good," said Jeb gruffly. Azkedellia quirked an eyebrow.

"I hoped you would," she said, smoothing a hand over the back of a chair. "All of this used to be in Daddy's hideaway. When DG was really little, Daddy and I would go to his workshop behind the palace and he'd teach me things. Everything we made together is in this room."

Jeb felt almost like he'd been punched in the stomach. Azkedellia had made most of these? Each piece was so carefully and clearly lovingly crafted. The room was a monument to her and her father. Her memories of happiness. Given over to Jeb, who hadn't wanted the assignment to protect her in the first place.

"I'm glad it still exists, then," said Jeb. "Thank you, your Highness. I'd be honoured to live here."

She nodded and left. Jeb heard the door to her bedroom open and close behind her. He looked over each piece of furniture, the layout of the room, the carefully thought out pieces of art that Azkedellia had thought he might like. He checked the carefully placed clock and realized that if he was going to sleep in his new room that night, he was going to need to move his things in.

When his men had asked about the move, Jeb had invited them to help. "It's a tradition, apparently. She gave me the choice as to where I wanted to live, and after seeing what she did with the space, I chose to live there. You're welcome to come and see why, if you'll help me carry my stuff there."

They ran into Wyatt Cain on their way back, and he joined the group that was headed up to Azkedellia's apartments in a bit of bewilderment. The sitting room, in its formal elegance, earned nods of approval: this is what a princess' home should look like. Jeb's room drew groans of envy.

"So where'd Azkedellia get the furniture from?" asked Wyatt as he examined the desk.

"Ahamo's workshop," said Jeb. "Apparently, they made it together." The hubbub immediately quieted.

"She really trusts you, sir," said one of the men. "I mean, everyone knows that Ahamo and Azkedellia are close. These pieces are special."

"I know," said Jeb. Pleased with their commander's new quarters, the men filed out and headed back to their own homes. Wyatt stayed behind.

"She's growing on you," commented Wyatt.

"Maybe a little bit," admitted Jeb. "She's got a way of just getting things done."

"That's Gale women for you," said Wyatt. "Don't be a stranger, Jeb." And then he was gone, leaving Jeb alone in a room that epitomized the love between parent and child to think about his own relationship with his remaining parent.


End file.
